Tweets from (real) birds

For three days we have had spring–a condition in South Carolina that often lasts only for days between winter and summer. In spring I can leave my windows open at night and sleep under a ceiling fan just cool enough to snuggle under one light quilt. I can hear the owls and whippoorwills in the evening and the mockingbirds and cardinals at dawn.

It’s not just about turning off both the heat and the air conditioning, which is nice in its effect on my budget. It reminds me that I’m not another piece of furniture in the house, that I am part of what goes on outside the walls–the birds warbling their songs, the flowers wafting sweet perfume, the oaks and pines pumping out their yellow mist of pollen. The cool air that spills across my monitor in the morning from the long 50’s style horizontal window fills my lungs with oxygen, sweet and cool. It makes for a good reason to get up early and just be.

Yesterday I bopped out of my chilly office at work into the 88-degree sunshine, which filled me with a great sense of peace and contentment. There’s no way to pull fresh air into the atrium where my cube nestles between several offices, and probably just as well, but the fresh air certainly feels good and brings with it the remembrance that the world is perfect and fine.

It’s up to me to go with its flow and find the peace it offers outside my digital existence. It’s good to remember that I am analog. Sometimes I forget.

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